


Oh, to be Young, and to Feel Love's Keen Sting

by MartiniCumberbatch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Potterlock, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartiniCumberbatch/pseuds/MartiniCumberbatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes John being injured on the quidditch field for them to finally get it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, to be Young, and to Feel Love's Keen Sting

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Превратности любви](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733116) by [Hedwig221b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedwig221b/pseuds/Hedwig221b)



> Super duper un-beta'd. This just popped in my head and I couldn't get it out. I'm sure it's been done before. I hope you like it. I'm not sure if I do. 
> 
> I own nothing.

Sherlock was one of the few students who chose to stay indoors during the quidditch game. He was spending the time in the library studying on how to produce a patronus charm. It was the one thing he couldn’t yet master and he knew why. He didn’t have any happy memories. He was scribbling notes furiously with his quill, trying to ignore the guilt he felt at missing the game. But it wasn’t his fault, he thought. John wouldn’t want him there anyway. The Gryffindor beater was playing against Slytherin today and Sherlock decided it was best to stay away from the field in case he ran into John. John in his quidditch uniform, and his mussed hair and flushed cheeks and his lopsided grin that Sherlock found so infuriating. No. He definitely did not want to run into John. Besides, he thought, Mary would be there as well. The blond Hufflepuff was the reason that Sherlock and John hadn’t spoken in weeks.

Sherlock and John had been friends ever since their first day on the Hogwart’s Express when John called Sherlock amazing instead of a freak like everyone else had. They had been inseparable ever since, except John came back to Hogwart’s this year with Mary as his girlfriend and things changed. She was small and blond with a perky personality. Sherlock thought she was annoying and nowhere near as smart as she thought she was. John could do much better. Mary didn’t like Sherlock. She would glare at him and call him weird when John wasn’t around. He tried to ignore her taunts but it hurt to see her on John’s arm instead of him. As far as Sherlock was concerned, John ‘I’m not gay’ Watson, did not feel the same way Sherlock felt about him. So, Sherlock distanced himself from John so he wouldn’t have to feel hurt every time John would laugh with Mary or kiss her on the cheek and whisper in her ear. Sherlock was better off alone, he thought.

Unrolling his fifth piece of parchment, Sherlock noticed that the library was now getting crowded and it seemed the quidditch match ended a lot sooner than expected. He continued to write when someone sat down across from him. Looking up, he saw it was Greg Lestrade, another Gryffindor, who Sherlock decided was more tolerable than most.

“Sherlock,” Greg said, trying to get his attention.

But Sherlock was not in the mood to talk, so he made a point to ignore him.

“Sherlock,” he said again. “Why aren’t you in the infirmary?”

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock answered him. “Because I’m not sick Lestrade, obviously.”

“No, I meant why aren’t you in the infirmary with John?”

Sherlock’s quill stilled in his hand. Without looking up he asked, “What happened to John?”

“Weren’t you at the match?” When Sherlock shook his head, Greg continued. “He got hit in the head with a bludger and got knocked off his broom. He fell about eighty feet.”

“Is he okay?” Sherlock’s voice wasn’t as steady as he wished it was.

“Didn’t look like it. McGonagall had Stamford and Murray carry him over to Madam Bones. So again, I ask, why aren’t you over there?”

Sherlock shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “John doesn’t want me there.”

“Bullshit.” Greg said. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

“Well he doesn’t _need_ me there. He has Mary.” He didn’t hide the distaste in his voice when he said her name.

“Is that what you’re on about?” Sherlock didn’t answer him so Greg stood up, grabbed Sherlock by his blue tie and shoved him out of the library.

“Why are you assaulting me, Lestrade?” Sherlock wiggled to try to get out of Greg’s grip, but he couldn’t.

“Because you’re an idiot and we’re going to see John.” Greg held onto the Ravenclaw until they reached the infirmary and pushed him inside.

Sherlock froze as he saw John. He was sickly grey and had bandages wrapped around his head. His left arm was in a sling and he seemed to be sleeping. Madam Bones was in the corner working a healing potion. Greg walked further into the room, squeezing Sherlock’s shoulder, motioning for him to follow. Sitting next to John’s bed was his sister Harriet, and of course, Mary. When she looked up and spotted Sherlock she scowled. “What’s he doing here?”

Sherlock stood up straight and flattened his tie. “I have every right to be here if I want to. John is my friend.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “You’re only here because he’s injured. Probably just wants to see what shattered bones look like. Isn’t that right freak?”

Greg and Harry both shifted uncomfortably as Sherlock stepped closer to Mary. “Don’t you dare question my motivation when it comes to John Watson. He’s the most important person in my life.”

Mary stood up quickly, her chair screeching as she did. “Well he doesn’t give flying pygmy about you,” she shouted.

_“Shh…luh…”_

Everyone’s heads snapped to John, who was slurring in his sleep. “Oh, now you’ve woken him up, freak.” Mary sat on the bed with John and grabbed his hand.

_“love…”_

“That’s right, John. I’m here.” Mary ran her hand through John’s hair to sooth him, and Sherlock flared with jealousy. He wanted to be the one sitting with John, holding his hand, helping him get better. He turned around to leave, but what John said next caught everyone’s attention.

_“Sher…lock. Love…Sherlock…”_

Mary stood up and stormed out of the room, shoving Sherlock on her way out. He was too stunned to care and was frozen in place. John said his name. John said he loved him.

He was brought back to attention as Greg cleared his throat. “Erm, come on Harry. Let’s go get a pumpkin juice, yeah?” Harry got up gingerly, smiling at Sherlock. “About time, don’t you think.”

Sherlock barely noticed they had left as he sat on the edge of the bed with John. He glanced down at John’s hand and noticed that it twitched. after a moment of hesitation, he placed John’s hand in his own and lightly rubbed circles with his thumb, hoping that brought some comfort. Sherlock couldn’t believe that he was getting to hold John’s hand. Even if John would be angry or uncomfortable, at least he had this for a little while.

John shifted in his bed again. His eyes were still closed but he spoke clearer than earlier. “Is she gone?”

“I-what?” Sherlock tried to drop his hands but John just held him tighter.

“Mary. Is she gone?”

“Um, yes she is.”

John slid closer to where Sherlock sat and smiled at him. “Good.” he said, while yawning. “Don’t leave me.”

Sherlock smiled as John drifted back to sleep. “Never” he said as brushed his lips across John’s knuckles.

He knew he wouldn’t have trouble producing a patronus anymore.


End file.
